


She is Strength

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [57]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Gotham's Writing Workshop, angel forest train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 22:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15895167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: His wife was a strong woman. He loved that about her... This was a time when he hoped to offer his strength to her.





	She is Strength

**Author's Note:**

> I feel as if, since I write 98% family-friendly fluff, I ought to warn you that Claire drops the f-bomb in this one. Just sayin’…

                                                            

His wife was a strong woman. He loved that about her. She was determined, disciplined, and incredibly capable. And he’d learned that there were times when, if he could step aside, her strength shined even brighter. Then there were times when they were both the better for leaning on one another and lending each other strength. _This_ was a time when he hoped to offer his strength to her.

He’d had an inkling something was happening last night. 

Often in this last month, he’d rubbed her back or her feet. Many times she fell asleep while he did so, suddenly and deeply resting as if she could store up extra energy for the task ahead.

This morning all but confirmed it. It wasn’t as if Claire jumped out of bed ready to begin her day with energy and enthusiasm. She typically awoke in complete disarray, forest of curls in a wild halo around her head, voice husky with sleep, and bodily coordination completely lacking. She’d consume copious amounts of coffee before speaking in complete sentences. Jamie had learned that before she’d wholly woken, Faith was the only human being who was safe from his wife.

As her pregnancy with their second child had progressed she woken with playful complaints on being the size of a whale, _his_ child playing football with her bladder, and general comments of discomfort. This morning though, she’d laboriously rolled toward him, tenderly stroked his cheek, and spoke softly.

“Will you please take care of Faith this morning, love?”

_Please_ was not a word Claire Fraser used in the morning. No matter how proper or well-mannered she may have been at other times, he knew there was something going on then.

The first part of the day progressed much as normal day off work would, though with Claire exuding a preternatural calm that he found ironically unnerving.

He could tell she’d had a few contractions during breakfast. She’d wordlessly stop what she was doing and place her palms flat on the tabletop as if to ground herself then moments later would pick up where she’d left off wiping food of Faith’s face or nibbling on a bite of her toast.

By lunch she finally admitted it.

“Yes,” she huffed. “ _Ok_?”

It was said out of the blue, no context whatsoever to one who didn’t know her well. But he knew his wife and her ways.

“Aye,” he said simply. He knew she would tell him if she needed anything. Knew she’d apprise him of anything he needed to hear.

Instead of continuing to make Faith’s sandwich, she’d handed him the knife _(tang Dhia!)_ and had paced back and forth across the kitchen a few times before coming to stand next to him as he finished preparing their daughter’s meal.

He wiped his hands then hesitantly gathered his wife close until she melted into him, wanting to hold her while he still could.

Above all, he knew that it was important, as much as possible, for Claire to feel as if she had some sort of control over things. Faith’s abrupt and terrifying arrival two years ago had thrown her for a tailspin. Claire was a nurse, she was healthy, she was armed with knowledge, and still, their baby had come much too soon.

_This_ baby had been planned from the beginning. _This_ time she’d purposely not worked and had allowed herself to rest more often. Claire was determined that things would be different this time around. And yet, she still only had so much control.

In the later afternoon, Jamie began to fret. He knew _exactly_ how far apart his wife’s contractions were, even if she was trying (and failing) to keep that from him. They ought to have been on their way to the hospital, or at least they should have called their doctor.

Faith, completely oblivious to the goings on, was “reading” to a doll on the window seat. Claire had long since abandoned any dreams of sitting down. She’d been pacing or leaning on the back of a chair, dropping instead into a squat every six minutes. Exactly. For the last hour and ten minutes.

“Claire?” he questioned tentatively after she’d suffered a particularly brutal contraction during which she’d groaned loudly enough that wee Faith offered to talk to “her baby” to tell her not to hurt mama.

“What?” she asked.

“I dinna want to tell ye what to do when yer handling things sae well, but ye are holding your breath-”

“I _know_ whatI’mdoing!” she spat back, clutching the chair again and swiveling her hips.

“Ok,” he said meekly.

And on it went throughout the day, much too long for Jamie to be comfortable with things. He may have been a firefighter but he definitely didn’t want to put his medical training to the test with his own family.

And then it finally happened.

“Ok,” she sighed before her face contorted in pain. “We can go now.”

“Oh aye?” he said rather dubiously. It _really_ didn’t look like a good time to go anymore. Not at all.

“Now. _Now_!” she suddenly insisted with an intensity that surprised him, letting go of the back of their couch, reaching blindly for him and clutching his forearm instead.

“Should we have gone _before_ now?” he probed, all the while reaching for his wife’s coat and wrapping it over her shoulders, holding her elbow and supporting her as they made their way to the car, pondering how grateful he was that they’d already settled Faith at Mrs. Fitz’s place.

“Maybe,” she paused then her brow furrowed again, eyes shut, breathing labored. “Maybe. _Yes_ ,” she spat out. “ _Oh, yes_ we should have,” and then she couldn’t speak again as she leaned on the doorframe of their car and rocked from side to side seeking some small relief.

“You’re going to have this baby in our car, aren’t you?”

“No,” she clenched her teeth and a small groan escaped her as a contraction tore through her with the force of a freight train. “Maybe. No. _Fuck._ ”

And in spite of all the strength and determination he knew his wife had, he was _not_ feeling good about this situation. Not at all.

* * *

His gorgeous, determined, _perfect_ wife lay across the room from him, sleeping while their new daughter lay in his arms. He’d sent a text to his family and some friends from work saying that all was well and now he was reveling in how amazing the woman before him was and what a treasure she’d given him.

His phone rang softly and showed an incoming call from his sister. He swiped at the screen and, grinning, answered the call in a whisper.

“She’s here, Jenny. Born nae more than 10 minutes after we arrived!”

“I’m awake. You needn’t whisper,” his wife called gently from her place on the bed. He smiled at her and continued his conversation in a normal voice.

“Ye ought to see her. She’s a wee angel,” he stated proudly.

“Oh, she’s definitely _not_ wee,” inserted Claire. “Here, give me the phone.” She held one hand then other. “No, give me our daughter,” she decided.

He sauntered over and placed their baby girl in her arms.

“Yer on speaker now, Jenny. Claire wants ye to know the bairn isna ‘wee’ at all.” He thought his face might get stuck in a grin.

“Claire would ken better than you!” she laughed. “Are ye well then, sister?” Jenny’s voice carried through the phone. 

“Mmmhmm, content. Happy,” she paused. “You know.”

His wife trailed a delicate finger down their baby’s chubby cheek.

“I cannae wait for you and Ian to meet her,” Jamie went on.

He couldn’t wait for the _world_ to meet their new daughter


End file.
